Stumbling to the finish
Fissures. Like fingers. Extending outwards. From a central chip in the damn.
Thinning walls. Thicker pressure. Forcing my energy. My focus. Into a cramped and useless ball. In the past. It was just a flick of the wrist. A flip of the mind. Inverting, at the last moment when things seemed to go wrong. Simply adjust and pull up and through. Carrying all my hopes and goals on a thread behind.
But this is the living now. There is no telling what will hold. It seems different. I no longer have faith in my place in the world in and of itself. This was the very key to my past success.
I would like to sleep everything away. I used to be very good at Balancing. But that was because there was room to do it. There just isn't enough space in this schedule. To breathe. To lay awake at night. And calmly rearrange and orient everything into the liveable, loveable, exciting, process of existance. I am very glad that this overzealous endeavor ends soon. It won't be soon enough.
I think with that extra bit of space. I should be fine. Just. Fine.
Thinning walls. Thicker pressure. Forcing my energy. My focus. Into a cramped and useless ball. In the past. It was just a flick of the wrist. A flip of the mind. Inverting, at the last moment when things seemed to go wrong. Simply adjust and pull up and through. Carrying all my hopes and goals on a thread behind.
But this is the living now. There is no telling what will hold. It seems different. I no longer have faith in my place in the world in and of itself. This was the very key to my past success.
I would like to sleep everything away. I used to be very good at Balancing. But that was because there was room to do it. There just isn't enough space in this schedule. To breathe. To lay awake at night. And calmly rearrange and orient everything into the liveable, loveable, exciting, process of existance. I am very glad that this overzealous endeavor ends soon. It won't be soon enough.
I think with that extra bit of space. I should be fine. Just. Fine.